Beating Me Down
by Smarley
Summary: If I didn't know you... I would want to hunt you" Sam can't shake the words out of his head. Tag, one shot. Limp!Sam big brother angsty Dean


**AN: Here's another one shot, it's a tag for metamorphosis. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think.**

**Thanks to macs ace for the wonderful beta, any mistakes are my own. **

**Disclaimer: See profile**

**ENJOY**

As soon as the words had left his mouth he regretted them, but there was no way he was taking them back, especially not in the middle of the argument where he had to stand firm. He had to let his little brother know that he was walking a dangerous line and it had to stop.

Dean had hit below the belt, and he knew it. He knew how to get to Sam, to hurt his brother, to make sure this ability using behavior came to an end. But Sam never backed down- he faltered- but didn't back down. Dean wasn't sure if he should be proud of his brother's stand or absolutely terrified.

The feelings were still fresh… almost amplified by the Rugaroo hunt where more words had been said, more feelings had been trodden on and now Dean was left with a hurt and confused little brother who sat silently in the passenger seat beside him.

Everything that had happened, Dean wouldn't take it back, but it still made him feel guilty. Guilty enough that he had tried to apologize; tried to bridge the ever-growing gap between him and Sam.

But it was no use; Sam just brushed him off, giving him the quiet statement…not the promise Dean was looking for… of not using his powers anymore.

Words that should have comforted the older brother, but they didn't comfort the fact that Sam had lied to him, kept secrets from him, couldn't trust him.

'_Can you blame him?'_ His mind shouted calling him out, _'Every time he opens up seriously, your fist closes up and swings.'_

Dean could feel his face flush, remembering back to the sickening crack of his fist hitting Sam's unexpected face not once, but twice.

His little brother who had been alone for four months dealing with all of the aftermath of their fucked up lives, praying for Dean's return. Only to have his 'savior' brother come back and use him as a punching bag.

Glancing over Dean could see the nasty gash and the large bump from the Rugaroo hitting Sam, but it didn't stick out as much as the swollen lip. It was the split in the younger mans lip that stood out to the older brother more than anything, the split that Dean had caused.

His vision started to blur as he continued to look at the lip, the haze of a neon sign breaking him out of his trance. He didn't need to look up to know what the sign was for. His mind racing, yanking hard on the steering wheel, skidding into the parking lot, gravel spitting up, Sam bracing himself on the passenger window, the breaks screaming to a stop.

He had wanted to keep going, to get as much distance as he could from the Rugaroo and the harsh words. But he needed to stop, and the dingy motel was like a savior in the cold quiet night.

"Get a room." It was an order, not a question. Sam paused for only a minute, fear and confusion radiating off the younger boy, fear that Dean would leave him, that Dean hated him. All unspoken words that Sam didn't need to say for Dean to pick up on.

Eventually Sam began to move, his actions slow and sloppy as he got out of the car, tripping slightly as he walked towards the motel office, sending quick glances back in Dean's direction.

Wasting no time Dean stepped hard on the gas, pushing it to the floor, the tires spinning before they finally gripped the loose gravel and the car shot out of the parking lot.

Dean could hear Sam's frantic pleas, glancing in the mirror he saw his younger brother running after the car fading into the distance as Dean continued to speed off. Not stopping, all of his thoughts too much for him to handle with Sam around. His younger brothers bruised face haunting him… Dean needed a bar and he needed one fast.

-o-

Tasting the blood in his mouth he spit it onto the gravel, having bitten his lip and reopening the split as he had chased after the Impala, crying out for his brother who quickly disappeared into the darkness.

Sam could feel the flip in his mind as Dean disappeared. His older brother gone once again, his thoughts quickly going back to the dark house where Sam had watched helplessly as Dean's life and soul disappear into the darkness of hell while lying on the dining room floor. There was nothing Sam could have done then, and there was nothing the younger man could do now.

He stood staring, the blood beginning to drip from his lip and down his chin, tears brimming, his eyes threatening to spill, his body swaying, his head throbbed, Dean was gone…again.

The cool air of the night crept through his clothes, sending a chill through his body, kicking his mind back into motion, he had to get a motel room.

Going through the motions of getting the room, his mind having already made the easy switch back to being alone with no brother there to pick up his crumbling pieces. The feelings of being alone hit him hard, like the last few weeks had been nothing but a dream, that Dean had never come back. Sam shook his head, he knew better than that, knew that Dean was back, and knew why his older brother had left him.

"Cash or credit card?" The old woman behind the counter asked, her voice gravelly from years of smoking.

He hesitated on spending the money on the motel room, thoughts of when Dean had had his soul taken away into the depths of hell drifting into the forefront of his mind. Sam had never let himself have the luxury of motel rooms when Dean was gone. Always finding an abandoned building he could set up residence in, he had no reason to live comfortably then.

"_Dean might come back" _his mind chided, ultimately making the decision on getting the room.

Walking into the single bed motel room his chest aching, his heart hammering wildly. He fought to control his breathing, his chest heaving fiercely, throbbing in time with his heart.

The throb quickly moving from his chest, traveling up to his head where it amplified, distorting his vision, stumbling his way over to the bed where he fell, his hands curled tightly in his hair.

Crying openly into the darkness, it was the one place he could cry, where no one could see, no one could judge his weakness. Dean was gone again, and it was because Sam was a monster.

-o-

Eyes snapping open, Sam didn't remember falling asleep. His eyes swollen and scratchy from crying, he glanced around jumping to his feet.

Thoughts of Dean leaving him becoming a secondary notion as his vision attempted to focus through the heavy blur that had settled over him.

The familiar motel room gone, replaced with thick brush and a cool breeze, his mind began to race. His hunting skills coming into play as he readied himself, unsure of what exactly was going on.

His eyes scanning the area readily, his mind racing as to what could have taken him from his motel room, his mind opening up like his fathers journal, pages internally flipping, all coming up blank.

A faint rustle from his side had him whipping his head around, feeling for his gun or knife, he was surprised when his hands brushed across the loose fabric of his clothes, desperate for the cold grip of his gun but coming up empty.

The rustling getting louder in the small space, his fists came up in front of his face, his weight on the balls of his feet ready for the threat that was approaching.

"Sammy…." Deans voice echoed, freezing Sam to where he stood, watching as a hand came through the brush, the gun the first thing the young Winchester saw, but the silver ring that adorned the hand was a close second.

Dean slowly emerged, the gun never wavering, pointing at Sam who began to feel small tremors of despair work their way through his tall frame as realization dawned on him…Dean was hunting him.

"If I didn't know you I would hunt you" Rang through the quiet air, deafening to the younger Winchester who stood looking at his older brother.

Trying his voice, he was surprised it worked, "Dean… come on man."

Dean just laughed, the gun never moving from Sam's head.

"Oh Sam, you should have known this was coming. I wasn't lying about hunting you little brother. You're a monster Sam, Gordon had it right," Dean continued taking a step closer.

"You need to die, to save humanity you need to go, because there is no room for freak Demon monsters… like you… you don't deserve to live." He spat at Sam who stood stock still, trying to make sense as to what was happening.

"I can't believe I died for you… I can't believe mom died for you, or Dad, or even Jessica."

Sam unconsciously began taking steps back as Dean's words bit into him, shaking his head, "No, no this can't be real" he muttered tears trailing down his cheeks, the images of his dead family racing through his head.

His father on the cold hospital floor, Jess on the burning ceiling, Dean being ripped apart in front of his face. Scarce images of his mother fleeting through, inter mingling with the rest of his family. Not being able to remember her bothering him more than anything.

"You can't remember her because you killed her." Dean whispered, not more than a foot away from the younger man whose back was against the thick brush, trapped in the small space.

"I didn't…"

Sam tried to hide his grimace as Dean smiled at the weakness in his voice, poking the gun hard into his chest, "Oh please Sam, she didn't burn over my crib did she?" Sam flinched at the words, his strength diminishing with every harsh word that passed through Dean's lips.

"You've been destroying our family since day one, the only reason I ever took care of you was because I was that good little soldier. Remember? _You_ always bring that up to me Sammy."

Sam shook his head, his hands feeling along the brush looking for some sort of escape, "No…"

The gun swung hard through the air, hitting Sam with a sickening crack, flashes of Dean's fist hitting him in the motel room blinking behind his eyes.

"Dean please." Sam tried to get through to his older brother whose features softened at Sam's pleading.

"Sam… you're a monster and a freak. I can't believe you're my brother and that I died for you."

Sam didn't have time to respond as Deans finger tightened around the trigger. The sound of the gun deafening in the thick brush; fire erupting through Sam's chest, his breath caught in his throat falling to his knees looking to his brother who stared down at him, satisfied smile on his face.

The gun moved to point back at Sam's head Dean snarled, "Monster" he said pulling the trigger once more.

-o-

Sam's breath caught in his throat, his eyes snapping open once again, the dull features of the motel room making it through the thick haze that settled across his vision.

Sweat dripping down his back he fought to get his thoughts back in order. Looking around the room, alone again, glancing at the clock his heart hammering as the red numbers pulsed in the thick fog of his mind… 10:04, memories of his father washed through him.

Leaning forward, grasping his head in his hands, Dean was right he really was a monster.

Short pants of breath tore viscously through his chest, he was a fucking monster and he couldn't do anything about it.

Sam could feel his reserves continue to crumble, thinking of the confrontation he had with Dean in the thick brush, it encompassed the small room which was beginning to shrink around him. The four walls moving closer and closer, Sam continued to pant wildly.

"Enough… stop." Sam begged, his body rocking back and forth, his hands gripping his hair hard, his chest ready to explode under all the pressure.

The demon blood pumping through his veins, taunting him, hiding beneath his pale skin, knowing he couldn't rip it out or wipe it away, it pulsed happily away.

All of his family dying, his brother leaving him, his demon blood pumping through him, it was too much, all of it was too much.

"I'm not a monster!" Sam yelled, the converter he hadn't known he was holding leaving his hand and finding a home through the television screen, standing still, his chest heaving, eyes burning, head throbbing.

The gash from where the Rugaroo hit him throbbing, like it was on fire. The haze and confusion that had been no more than annoyance before had finally settled deeply in his mind.

He needed to get out of the room, away from the town, away from everything. Walking over to the door, throwing it open, he ran… and didn't look back.

-o-

The thick cloud of smoke hung in the small bar, the noise of its patrons drowning out all of the worried thoughts that had bothered Dean before he came.

The bar -his safe haven- doing its job to help him forget his problems; just for a little bit, a few hours, then he would go back to his brother, back to the drama that is his life.

Taking a deep breath he coughed slightly, his non smoker lungs not relishing the fact that the cloud of smoke was so thick. Shaking his head he couldn't believe he was sitting there, only one beer in his system, the other stayed in his hands slowly going warm as he rotated it between his fingers.

He had always found it weird that he found comfort in the grunge of a run down bar, but it was just one of those things that reminded him –almost- of home, besides Sam and the Impala the bar was the only normal thing he had, and even then it wasn't always so normal.

Taking a deep breath he took another drink of his beer, wincing at the warm bitter taste, setting it down on the bar, aware that he was no longer alone, the seat next to him filled with a pretty red head.

"How are you doing?" She slurred.

Dean frowned in disgust looking over at the woman who must have been well over her forty's and had spit out more than her fair share of children during her time. Keeping his mouth shut he just smiled politely, getting up from the stool.

"Where you going?" The woman tried to take a step towards him, tripping on her own feet, hands reaching out. Dean stopping her just before her face connected with the wood bar.

"I'm heading in for the night darlin'" Dean smiled his trademark smile, he had standards to live up to but he also had a rule that his father had ingrained in him, _'don't ever be rude to a woman, doesn't matter who she is.'_ And Dean had lived by that since he was old enough to look 21 to get into the bars.

"Want company?" The woman continued.

"No sweetheart I have a younger brother I have to go look after. But thanks for the offer." He replied with a wink before making sure the woman was steady on her feet once again.

Guilt washing over him as he started to leave, the closer he got to the door, out of his safe haven the guilt got worse.

Thoughts of his brother sitting in the old motel room, alone… again, bombarding him as he took those first steps out the door. Sam was more than likely freaking out over the fact that he had driven off, and Dean didn't blame him.

He had really screwed up lately, the harsh words, accusatory glances and the physical pain he had inflicted on his younger, confused brother, who was practically begging for help.

None of it was called for, but Dean just couldn't stop himself once he got going, couldn't stop causing Sam pain, knowing what to say to do it the best. He needed to get back to his brother.

An urgency re-entered Deans heavy steps, an urgency he hadn't felt for a long time. He needed to get back to Sam, needed to try and make things right.

-o-

The dirty man behind the front desk barely looked up at him as he asked about Sam, his wife on the other hand not only looked up but also gave a little wink and a smile that had Deans eyes widening, fear ingraining in, but the smile staying.

She had been more than willing to tell Dean about what room Sam was in as she waddled forward, greasy hand brushing past his shoulder.

"Thanks" he replied, ducking the next touch from the woman that was coming close to his face, walking away from the office a shudder settling deep in his bones.

The gravel crunching under his boots, the neon sign flickering, casting an eerie light over the small motel. Approaching Sam's room, the thoughts of the woman at the front desk vanishing. Sam's door wide open, Dean's hand moved to his gun, calling out to his brother.

"Sammy?"

Moving cautiously through the room, gun ready for use, "Sammy…?" no response, the room empty.

Dean's heart hammered in his chest, its loud beat filling the room, Sam was gone. Stopping to take a breath, knowing he couldn't dwell on the fact that Sammy was missing, now all he had to do was find his little brother.

Gazing around the room, it didn't look like there was any sort of struggle, his eyes flashing over to the television screen and the hole that adorned it.

Sam had done this before, after a fight with their father. Pent up anger and frustration usually had Sam throwing something through the wall or television.

'And YOU caused it'

Dean shook his head, there was no time to dwell, he had a brother to find.

-o-

Sam's head hurt and his chest ached, he had stopped running, his thoughts muddled and foggy. Deans cold words _'if I didn't know you I would hunt you'_ the only thing making it through to Sam's cloudy mind.

His fingers brushing against the small gash on his head ghosting over the bump that had formed underneath the cut, thoughts of the Rugaroo drifting in and out.

'He has something evil in his blood, maybe you can relate?''Do you know the difference between right and wrong?''So far from Human'

Hot tears burned his cold cheeks, taking another step his center of balance quickly failing him, wind milling his arms trying to find his center with little success.

Toppling to his right side, sliding into the ditch and into the cold sludge that awaited him at the base, Sam gagged at the smell.

His mind trying desperately to work through the uncertainty and confusion that surrounded him, trying to free himself from the sludge that he was flailing in. But it didn't matter which way he turned, it was all around him, swallowing him whole.

He was about to call out when he heard it, Deans voice calling out to him, getting closer and closer. Sam looked around frantically his gaze finally finding Dean, seeing his older brother running towards him, the silver glint of the gun bouncing off the pale moonlight.

Panic began to swell inside Sam's mind. His fingers clawing desperately at the cold ground, finally finding their way out of the sludge. Sam tried to run, his mind only managing to take two steps before his legs collapsed underneath him, his arms swinging wildly.

The loud footsteps of his brother approaching, gun in hand roared in his head, all he could do was beg, "Dean… Please…"

-o-

Dean had been getting into the Impala to look for Sam when he had heard his brothers voice cry out from close by. Bringing his gun back out Dean started to run to his brothers voice. The threat of Sam being attacked becoming real once again.

Dean ran through the dark, Sam's small cries of pain and confusion urging him forward. His vision ultimately settling on Sam who appeared to be struggling in the ditch like a drunk on a weekend binge.

It would have been amusing had Sam not looked at Dean with big terrified eyes as he struggled harder. Each attempt to get up unsuccessful; his hands digging furiously at the dirt finally grabbing a hold of the thick mud, pulling himself to his feet, it wasn't enough to keep him standing.

Dean tried to run and catch him but those weak words had stopped him where he stood. Sam's shaking form lying not more than five feet in front of him. Standing in the middle of the ditch Dean could feel the cold 'water' leak through his boots invading his socks and surrounding his feet, he didn't care.

"Sammy?" Dean tried his voice, not surprised that it was weaker than he wanted it to be, he tried moving forward, Sam's squeak of panic stopping him once again. Sam was confused, that much Dean could see. The gash on his head bleeding once again, probably suffering from a concussion Dean cursed himself for not checking Sam over better. The concussion would explain the confusion and loss of balance… but not the fear.

"Sammy…?"

"D'n please" Sam's words slurred, his eyelids blinking in rapid succession.

"Easy Sam. What's wrong?"

"I didn't mean… I didn't know what to do." Tears began to clear a path through the dirt on Sam's cheeks; Dean didn't know what to say.

"Sam…"

"I just don't want to be alone anymore." Sam rambled, his body trying to move, Dean taking the opportunity to step a little closer, wanting to reach out to his younger brother who was breathing in short rapid pants.

"You're not alone Sammy." Dean tried to reason his own swell of panic forming at Sam's desperation.

"No, no, I am." Sam said, his eyes making contact with Deans, "Angels, demons, hunters… even you would hunt me." Sam cried out, his body falling once again, his mind having lost all concept of which way was up and which was down.

Dean felt his own tears begin to fall, wiping them away quickly, ignoring Sam's rising panic as he walked up to him.

Falling beside his brother, gripping him tight. Sam crying out begging for Dean not to hurt him, struggling frantically. Dean continued to cry, holding on tight to his brother, not letting him go, talking quietly to him, waiting until Sam finally began to relax like Dean knew he would.

"Sammy listen to me." Dean began and Sam remained quiet, small shivers still running through his frame.

"I…" his voice choked "I am _**not ever**_ going to hunt you." He choked out, voice cracking, emotions on overload at having to confirm this to his baby brother.

"And if _anything_ tries to hunt you, demon, hunter or angel… I will kill it."

Dean could feel his brother begin to relax at the words. "You're never alone Sam, and I would go back to the pit before I ever turned on you. Whatever you do Sam… whatever you choose, I will be right there beside you."

"Promise?" Sam slurred his body relaxing in Dean's firm grip.

"Promise"

Sam nodded his head resting against Dean's shoulder, both boys now covered in the mud that inhabited the bottom of the ditch.

"You stink" Sam said, his nose crinkling at the smell. Dean couldn't help but laugh, "I don't think it's just me there Sammy, lets get back and clean up little brother."

Sam just nodded, not fighting as Dean helped him up to his feet. Dean knew that the trust would have to be rebuilt between the brothers, and that he would have to start accepting what his brother had been doing while he was gone, and what could possibly happen in the next couple of months. But it was something he could still push away… for now anyway.

**AN: So… too much? Haha Let me know and thanks for reading : ) **


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